Don't You Dare
by rayrae118
Summary: In response to the Write Me #1 prompt on Tumblr. TC is coming home. For good. How will he and Jordan reconnect, and what lies in store for their relationship? Pre-series. T for mentions of drinking and gambling, possibly some foul language, because, well, let's face it, it's TC.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I'm not one to really write based on prompts, but I figured I'd give it a shot. This is in response to the Write Me challenge on Tumblr. I'm still working on finishing it, but I figured I'd start posting now. As of this moment, I've got almost four chapters done, with probably one or two more to finish the whole story.**

**The prompt: TC's return from Afghanistan, up to the break up.**

**This will fit in with my other story, but it isn't necessary to read that one first, especially since this is a prequel. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Night Shift in any way.**

"You excited to go home?"

TC looked over at the man who had spoken. The plane he was currently on was full of men and women in uniform. All of them would consider themselves the lucky ones. They were getting out. They were going home.

TC gave the inquisitive man a halfhearted shrug and looked away. The truth was, he wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. Most of these people had either finished their tour, or had been injured and were receiving an honorable discharge.

He was being shipped back home because he had dared question the authority of those who considered themselves in charge. Honestly, his actions had been understandable, hadn't they? Certainly the soldiers had been cheering him on. After all, they were the ones who were getting shot up with less than adequate protective gear, while all those assholes who had never actually spent a day under siege had been protected by armored vehicles and gear designed to stop anything. Like they thought they were more valuable than the soldiers, because they had money.

Could anyone really blame him for losing it? He had seen so many good men die, because their gear couldn't stop the enemy's weapons.

His brother. Thad.

It had been several months, but the guilt and pain still hadn't left him. When he thought back on it, he couldn't remember everything that had led up to 'the moment', as he called it in his mind. He just remembered hearing the gunfire, seeing his brother fall.

Rushing to his side, trying to stop the bleeding.

After that, things got a little hazy, but he does remember donating Thad's heart to save Nick. That way, at least some small part of his brother could live on, in one of his good friends.

He knew that he had become increasingly erratic and prone to rash decisions since his brother's death, but he couldn't help himself. If he cared about other people's opinions, he would think that they would put his change in behavior down to his personal loss.

It hadn't been enough for the higher ups, though, because they wouldn't send him home early. Never mind the fact that he had just seen his brother killed, and he couldn't even be there with the rest of the family for the funeral, when they shipped the body home.

The plane jerked suddenly, and TC drew himself out of his thoughts, realizing that they had just touched down at Fort Bragg, in North Carolina. From here, everyone on this plane would be processed and sent back to their homes, wherever they may be.

TC didn't know what he was going to do now. He could go back to his family, but he really didn't think he could face any of them. He couldn't handle the fact that he had lived and Thad hadn't, and he couldn't look at his mother and father without feeling guilt over his other than honorable discharge. It was like he had thrown away the very thing he and Thad had coveted together.

So no, going back to his family home just outside of Dallas was not an option. But what else could he do?

Well, if he was being honest, he knew he had alternatives. He had graduated at the top of his class from Johns Hopkins, so he knew he could get offers from many hospitals around the country, if he just let them know he was looking.

People around him began standing up, and TC followed their actions in a daze, still thinking about what he was supposed to do next.

It wasn't until he was heading towards the exit of the Administrative building after receiving the details of his flight back to Dallas - the flight he had no intentions of actually catching - that he snapped out of it. Well, technically he almost ran into the man standing in front of him, but the result was the same.

He mumbled an apology, but didn't really pay attention until he heard a familiar chuckle.

"Damn, T, you look like crap."

TC's head snapped up, and he stared at the well-dressed man in front of him. "Derek?" he asked incredulously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Derek laughed lightly. "I don't see you in four years, and that's all you can say?"

TC rolled his eyes and reached forward, grasping the other man in a manly hug.

When they pulled away, Derek gestured for them to head outside. The day was still going strong, and summer was clearly on the way. The air was warm and humid, and the sun was out in full blast. They stayed silent until they had walked through the security checkpoint that marked the entrance and exit to the military base.

"So, three tours, huh?" Derek asked, leading them towards a nearby park. They took a seat on one of the wooden benches, and TC shrugged.

"Yeah," he said noncommittally.

Derek rolled his eyes. Like pulling teeth. "How are you and Jordan?"

Again, TC shrugged. "Fine."

Derek growled softly. "Seriously, T? I haven't seen you guys since we finished Residency and all you can say is 'fine'?"

TC almost smiled. "We're fine. Still together."

Derek sighed. "Whatever. I was really sorry to hear about your brother."

TC looked away, his jaw clenching. "What are you doing here, Derek? Come to gloat over your exalted career? Taking pity on the fall of a former rival?"

Derek shook his head. "No, T. I promise. I heard you were getting out, and you know I work nearby. I thought I'd come see you."

"Why?"

Derek sighed again. "Believe it or not, I actually have a job offer for you."

TC looked at him. "I'm not sticking around North Carolina."

Derek smiled. "Of course not. I remember how much you love Texas. The job's in San Antonio. You know how many military bases there are around there. Well, the hospital employs a lot of former military personnel. They contacted me a while ago about a position in Trauma, but I'm happy where I am. I just thought it might be something you would be interested in, so I sent the ER head your resume. If you want the job, it's yours."

TC frowned. "Just like that. You just happened to think of me. Four years, and all of a sudden, you're doing me a favor."

Derek shrugged. "Yeah."

TC furrowed his brow. "There's more to it."

Derek bit his lip, before nodding slowly. "I spoke with Jordan a few weeks ago. She mentioned a few things that have been going on, and she was worried about you."

TC gritted his teeth. He didn't need anyone to worry about him. He was fine.

Derek almost rolled his eyes again. "Damn, T, you've got this super-hot girlfriend who's all worried about you, wanting to be there for you, make sure you're all right, and you don't even care." He stood up and pulled out a card. "Here. If you're interested, give them a call. Good luck."

Without another word, Derek dropped the card onto TC's lap and walked away.

TC watched him leave, before he picked up the card. On it was a name and number. The logo in the corner was for the San Antonio Memorial Hospital. The funny thing was, TC actually knew this hospital. He had thought about maybe working there once he was done with the army. He knew they were pretty much smack dab in the middle of a whole bunch of military bases, and many of their doctors had served at least one tour.

He fingered the card as he thought it through. Could he do it? Just up and leave? Get on a plane headed for Texas, start a new life and never look back?

Would he have to tell his family? He should probably let them know he was back stateside, but he wasn't ready yet to face them.

And Jordan. What should he do about her? She definitely deserved to know that he was back. But he couldn't return to Dallas, where she currently lived and worked. She had moved back to Texas a few months before he had left on his last tour; he knew part of it was because she missed her home state, but she also wanted to be near his family, especially since he and Thad were heading back into such a dangerous situation. Jordan got along great with his parents, and his grandmother adored her. She had wanted to draw support from them, and offer it up as well, so she had left the job at the hospital in Baltimore, and even took a pay cut at the hospital in Dallas, just so that she could be around his family. She had done it all for him, and he was hesitating on letting her know he was back.

TC stood up and picked up his bag. He glanced back at the looming entrance to Fort Bragg, before deliberately turning his back, and walking in the other direction.

He was no longer a military man. That base had no meaning to him anymore. He wouldn't feel bad about that. That part of his life was over.

What he could feel bad about were the men he had left behind. He would forever hate himself for acting on impulse in the wrong moment, at the wrong time, and being forced to leave.

Topher, and all the rest.

He would have to let the man he had come to think of as his best friend know where he was, so that they could keep in touch. He knew that Topher's tour was up in just a couple of months, and the man had definitely made it clear that he wasn't planning on signing up for another one, so Topher would be back in the US soon.

Card still clutched in hand, TC hiked his army green duffle further up on his shoulder, and made his way towards the nearest busy street, his only goal to hail a taxi that would take him to the airport.

_OK, so that's chapter one. Let me know what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Here is chapter two of my answer to the Write Me challenge number one on Tumblr.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize**

TC's first day at the hospital went… Well, it would be a lie to say it went badly. It actually went pretty well. TC was talented, and he knew it.

The doctors he was working with were also pretty good at their jobs, and had their share of war stories. TC didn't really feel like participating, but he pretended to listen, when they all congregated for beers after shift.

The job offer had been for an ER doctor position on the night shift, and though he was a little wary of having to change his entire sleeping schedule, after just a few days, TC knew that this was the job for him. The night shift was busier, more gritty, than the day shift. It was closer to a war zone than any other job he could have gotten, and he was thankful for that.

Because when he was busy, he wasn't thinking. He wasn't seeing Thad's body jerk backwards from the impact of the bullets, or the look of shock and surprise on his face as he gasped out his last breath.

He wasn't trying to fill in the blanks, to remember those final few moments. When he wasn't thinking about it, he wasn't dwelling on it.

And that could only be a good thing, right?

He made sure to call Jordan when he arrived in San Antonio, and left her a message telling her that he was alive, and that he wouldn't be coming back to Dallas for a while.

He didn't expect her to be happy about that, which was why he wasn't surprised when she called him back a few hours later and started yelling.

Once she calmed down enough to take a breath, TC attempted to soothe her by inviting her down to visit.

That just set her off again, so TC just waited until she paused long enough to get a word in. When she did, he murmured, "I miss you," quietly into the phone.

He didn't wait for a reply, and just hung up. On the other end of the line, Jordan pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it uncomprehendingly. Yes, she was mad, but she was also worried. TC was impulsive and prone to rash decisions, and she was afraid of what he might do if left to his own devices.

He might take a job nearly three hundred miles away without even talking to her first, for example.

She knew the war had to have been hard, especially with Thad… But they had been dating for over five years now. Why didn't he talk to her first? Why hadn't he even let her know he was back?

She had heard about what had happened in the vague sense. An Other Than Honorable discharge for misconduct. She didn't know the details, but she was certain of one thing: whatever TC had done, it had been for a good reason. He loved the army. Whatever misconduct had gotten him kicked out, he had been trying to do the right thing.

"Jordan, you all right?"

Jordan jerked and looked up, nodding a shaky greeting to one of her colleagues. "I'm fine, Mary, thanks."

Doctor Mary Winfrey smiled. "You sure? You're looking at your phone like it's about to jump off a cliff or something."

Jordan glanced down at the phone in her hand and shrugged. "It's nothing."

Mary clearly didn't believe her, but let it go. "How's your boyfriend? You mentioned a couple weeks ago that he was coming home."

Jordan bit her lip, a look of worry crossing her face. "He's back, but he's not coming home. At least, not here."

Mary frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jordan sighed. "He got a job at a hospital in San Antonio. He moved there."

Mary reached over and rested a hand on Jordan's arm. "I'm sorry. Are you two going to try and work this out long distance? I know you've been together for a while."

Jordan huffed, annoyed. "I don't know. He didn't even tell me until he already moved! It's been a week."

Mary furrowed her brow. "So what are you thinking?"

Jordan groaned, moving over to take a seat at one of the tables in break room. "I know I should be mad. He made this huge life decision without me. But I can't be, because I know what coming back here would mean for him." Mary made a questioning noise, and Jordan shook her head. "His family is here. Coming back would just remind him of his brother. I think he just feels like he has to start over, and San Antonio can do that for him."

Mary tilted her head to the side. "That's right, you mentioned his brother had been killed a few months ago. I'm so sorry."

Jordan sniffed softly. "Thad was a great guy, and I know it's tearing TC up inside. I just wish he would have come back here, so that I could be there for him. And maybe make sure he doesn't do anything too insane."

Mary chuckled. "Good luck. I've only met him a few times, but even I know you'd be fighting a losing battle."

Jordan had to laugh as well, before the humor left the situation and she looked down at the table. A few moments passed in silence, as Jordan thought about her relationship.

They definitely had a strange connection, and more than one person had commented on how they didn't know why she and TC were together.

She loved him. It was as simple as that. Sure, he made her want to strangle him at times, and there were times when he did things like move three hundred miles away without telling her.

But then he would take her on a sunset picnic, or teach her how to ride a horse. There were little moments where she would see the depth of his caring, and she knew that he loved her just as much as she loved him. Even if he rarely said it out loud.

Mary watched her think, and was surprised when Jordan suddenly stood up. "I have to go," she said hurriedly, making a beeline for the door.

Mary stood as well, confused. "Where?" she asked, as Jordan threw the door open.

Jordan glanced back as she headed quickly towards the locker room. "San Antonio."

_Please review!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three of my response to the Write me number 1 challenge on Tumblr.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

There were a lot of things TC liked about his new job.

The other doctors were knowledgeable. They were relatively easy to get along with. They understood what being in a war was like, and respectively didn't ask him to share anything he wasn't comfortable with.

What he didn't like was when the shift was over, and he had to go home.

Of course, home was a relative word. He was currently renting a dingy one bedroom apartment that probably hadn't been cleaned since the Alamo.

It was tiny, and dirty, and the stove only worked half the time, but it was a place to crash, and it wasn't like he had that much stuff anyway.

San Antonio Memorial Hospital had a setup on the roof that his colleagues had introduced him to on his first day. They called it the Tailgate, and it was for night shift only. He loved it, because it allowed him a place to hang out before and after shift, as well as on breaks. It cut down on the amount of time he had to spend in his crappy apartment.

He hadn't done too much to move in, really. Most of his stuff was still in Dallas, and all he had brought with him was the duffel bag he had returned from Afghanistan with. A few changes of clothes, a couple of pictures…

And a ring. A beautiful, white gold, diamond and sapphire ring. It was an unusual style, considering the ring was nearly a hundred years old, and most rings from that time period would be simpler – yellow gold and diamond, without the embellishments. But from what his grandmother had told him, her own mother, the original wearer of this particular ring, had been an eccentric woman, with an attraction to the unusual.

His grandmother had pressed the ring into his hand just a few days before he and Thad had left for Afghanistan, and demanded he stop waiting and just propose already. He had taken her words to heart, but hadn't wanted to put Jordan in that position, right before he left for the Middle East. What if something had happened? It could just have easily have been him gunned down, instead of Thad. Instead of Nick. Instead of one of a hundred other good men he had seen and operated on while over there.

How many condolence letters had had watched get sent back? How could he put Jordan through the pain of that?

It was better for everyone if he just kept that ring in its innocent black velvet box.

And with his decision to move… well, he doubted Jordan would be as willing to accept it now, as she may have been before he had left.

TC growled to himself as he forced his mind out of a dark place. Jordan was the one good thing he still had going for him, and he had likely screwed that up as well. He should have talked to her before taking this job.

He should have been able to go back to Dallas to face everyone and everything. If he wasn't so much of a coward, he would have.

With a swipe across his face with the back of his hand, he pushed himself off of the lumpy mattress of the bed he had purchased for fifty dollars on Craigslist, and stalked over to his dresser – another Craigslist purchase, this time ten dollars. One of the drawers refused to stay on the roller, so it constantly got stuck. Another drawer was so scratched up he wondered if someone had been trying to claw their way out of it when he had seen it for the first time. But it had been cheap, and it worked.

With a firm tug, he forced the sock drawer open, and without pausing to reconsider, shoved the black velvet box to the very back. It had become a habit for him to take the ring out and study it every morning when he got home. He knew it probably wasn't healthy, but he couldn't help himself.

He couldn't help imagining what it would look like on Jordan's finger. He thought about the phone call to his mother, to tell her that he was getting married. He imagined his grandmother's face at learning that she would get a chance to see her grandson's wedding before the illness consumed her. He knew that she was holding on, but slowly worsening. Thad's death had hit her hard.

But these were pointless thoughts. He hadn't proposed. The ring sat innocently in its small black box, just waiting until tomorrow morning for him to take it out again, and start the whole process all over again.

This was what his life had come to. God, what was wrong with him? Shouldn't he be trying to figure out how to move on, and just get back to normal life?

But what was normal anymore? He had returned from Hell, sure, but now what? None of his training had taught him how to live once the war part was over. The Combat Water Survival Assessment hadn't exactly included a portion on how to get a good night's sleep when the nightmares of his friends and brother getting gunned down point blank haunted his every waking moment.

He didn't know how to let Jordan, or anyone else in, because if he did, he knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back. If he let himself feel it, just for one moment, he would never stop.

He could barely deal with the memories himself; he wouldn't force someone else to deal with them as well.

Groaning, TC dropped back down onto his fifty-dollar lumpy mattress. Wasn't the point of moving to San Antonio to start over? Why was he still thinking about this?

He just needed to get drunk. Maybe if he drank enough, the memories would leave him alone, at least for one night. Day. Whatever time it was that he actually slept. His schedule was getting very off, with the whole night shift job. He liked it, it just got confusing.

Drinking sounded like a good idea. He stood up quickly and made his way to the small cupboard he had turned into a liquor cabinet. He took out a bottle of Jack Daniels and uncorked it. Forgoing a glass, he drank straight from the bottle as he walked back to his room, his only goal to finally get some sleep. He felt like he hadn't been able to rest since Thad had been killed. He just wanted to be able to close his eyes without seeing it, just for a little while.

He wasn't sure how much time passed, but he did notice when the bottle was empty. Amazingly enough, he felt calm for the first time since he had returned to the states.

With the comforting buzz of alcohol running through his blood, TC slumped down and let the blissfulness of oblivion take him.

_Please review!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four of the Write Me number one challenge on Tumblr!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

The first time he saw her again, he was stitching up a belligerent drunk who didn't seem to realize that he was trying to keep the asshole from bleeding out in his ER.

A second pair of hands encroached on his vision, and he nodded a distracted thanks to whoever had come over to help him. Together, they got the man under control, and finished stitching him up, before leaving him in the care of the police officer who had escorted him to the hospital for medical attention, before taking him to booking.

Once they had the guy stitched up, TC took off his gloves and deposited them in the receptacle, before looking over at whoever it was that had provided him assistance, intending to thank them for the help.

He stopped in his tracks, staring at the smirking face of his girlfriend. His mouth dropped open. "Jordan?" he whispered, disbelieving.

Jordan moved closer as her smirk widened. "Nice to see you too."

TC closed his mouth and gulped. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Jordan shrugged, her smirk turning into a more gentle smile. "I work here." TC just stared, so Jordan led him towards the nearest break room. Once there, they sat down, and Jordan continued. "I spoke with my boss in Dallas, and he called a colleague out here. Long story short, I quit my job in Dallas and took one here."

"Why?" TC asked curiously. He still couldn't believe Jordan was here. That she had apparently left a really good job in Dallas just for him. Because he hadn't been able to make himself go home.

Jordan sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. "God, T, I tell you I quit my job and moved down to San Antonio and all you can do is ask me why?"

TC shook himself off, collecting his thoughts as he refocused on his girlfriend. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I'm just… surprised."

Jordan leveled an almost-glare at him. "Yeah, so was I. We've been dating for five years, you decide to move to San Antonio without even telling me first, and you just expect me to do nothing?"

TC winced. "Not exactly. But I didn't think you'd just move down here too."

Jordan bit her lip, suddenly nervous. "I thought… do you not want me here?"

TC immediately pushed himself up and sidestepped around the table, coming to a kneeling position at his girlfriend's side. "Of course I'm happy you're here," he assured her. "I just didn't expect it. I know I didn't handle things well when I called you. I should have asked you first."

Jordan took a deep breath. "I was pissed, but I do understand why you didn't want to go back to Dallas. And San Antonio Memorial is a good hospital. I've only been here for a day, but I do like it."

TC nodded. "I'm glad you're here," he said softly. "I missed you."

Jordan smiled. "I missed you too. I'm so glad you're home safe."

TC almost winced, thinking about Thad, and all the others he had seen gunned down. And that just led to thinking about the other men in his unit that were still fighting over there.

What right did he have to feel safe, when they were still in danger?

Jordan felt some worry creep in when TC didn't reply. "T?" she leaned forward slightly.

TC inhaled sharply, bringing himself back to the present. He smiled, but Jordan knew it wasn't real. "I'm fine," he placated. "We should get back to work."

Jordan nodded slowly as they stood up. "We'll talk later, all right? Can I come over to your place after shift?"

TC grimaced. "I'm not sure that's the best idea." Jordan looked hurt, so he hurried on, "My apartment isn't exactly clean."

Jordan nodded again, a small smile making itself known. "All right, then. My place?"

TC inclined his head. "Sure."

With that settled, the two got back to work. It was still early in the shift, and it was shaping up to be a busy night.

**XXX**

By the time their shift was over, both TC and Jordan were exhausted. The sun had only just risen a couple of hours earlier, but it was obvious that the day was going to be a scorcher. Summer in Texas was clearly on the way.

Without saying much, they headed towards Jordan's car, and then to her apartment. It wasn't her first choice of places to live, but it had been available, and the landlord had let her move in right away. The good thing was that it was a month to month lease, so she could move out once she got her bearings and found a place she liked better.

TC looked around the apartment with interest, but didn't comment. There were boxes piled in most of the corners, and it looked like she hadn't even begun unpacking.

Which would make sense, since she had only just moved. Her apartment was much nicer than his, and at least twice as large.

Jordan gestured for him to take a seat, while she set her bag down and disappeared into the kitchen.

A few minutes later, she reappeared with a mug of coffee in each hand. TC took the one she offered him with a murmured thanks, and for a few moments, it was silent in the dining room.

Finally, Jordan set her cup down and looked at her boyfriend shrewdly. "I'm really trying to be understanding, T. I know why you didn't want to come home, but do you get why I'm upset?"

TC nodded somberly, his eyes fixed on his coffee mug. "I know. Like I said earlier, I should have talked to you first. You know how prone I am to rash decisions."

Jordan smiled softly and reached out, resting a hand on top of his lightly. "I do. And I'm so sorry about Thad. I wish you could have come to the funeral."

TC's jaw clenched as his hands tightened around the mug. Jordan immediately knew that she had made a mistake, but didn't have time to correct it as TC quickly drained his coffee and stood up abruptly. "I should let you get some sleep. I'll see you tonight."

"T…" Jordan called out, trying to get him to stop, but before she could say any more, TC had reached the door and was walking outside. She slumped back down morosely. "Damn it."

**XXX**

TC wished he could say that that was the lowest point of their relationship, but he knew that would be a blatant lie. He wasn't blind to his faults, for all he acted like an arrogant prick at times. He knew he was a good doctor, but that didn't necessarily carry over to his personal life.

He was driving Jordan away.

What was worse, he knew he was doing it, and he still couldn't stop.

Oh sure, they acted like nothing was wrong; within a few days, he was sleeping at her apartment every day, he had moved half of his belongings in, and they carpooled to work every night.

But their relationship was different. They didn't _talk_, not like they used to, anyway. Their relationship seemed to boil down to sex, fights, angry sex, and more fights. Jordan hated that TC had turned to drinking and gambling as a way to cope, and TC hated that Jordan was trying to help.

If he was honest with himself, he would recognize that he was only angry because he knew she was right. But he wasn't honest with himself. He didn't want to admit to the truth.

Somehow, they managed to keep their relationship from the rest of the staff; both TC and Jordan felt that it was no one else's business, so they made sure to keep their personal lives out of the hospital.

For the most part. The supply room really did provide a good spot for a quickie, when they just couldn't wait.

Topher came home after a few more months, and quickly applied for a position at the San Antonio Memorial hospital, knowing that TC was there. With his resume, he got the job and started work immediately. He was happy to meet Jordan, finally, after hearing so much about her from TC and Thad, but could sense the tension in the relationship. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut.

It wasn't ideal, but it was working. Yeah, no one was really completely happy, but they were willing to go along with it.

That didn't mean Topher particularly _liked_ walking in on TC and Jordan having sex in the supply closet, but hey, at least the couple remembered to lock the door after that.

And maybe Jordan didn't really like having the same arguments with TC about his gambling, or his drinking, but she still loved the idiot, and she figured, as long as she was there to nag him, he would remember to at least come home every once in a while.

That was the thought that kept her going when things got rough. There were times that she really hated to think about, because then all she could remember was the fear curling in her gut. She was never afraid that TC would lay a hand on her, because she knew that – even drunk – TC would never stoop to that level. But when he got drunk, he was so different from the man she had known; the man she had fallen in love with.

TC knew he was scaring Jordan, but he couldn't make himself stop. It was like he was watching his life from the sidelines. He could see what he was doing, he knew that it wasn't healthy, or right, but he did it anyway.

At least he made sure to leave himself enough time to sober up before shifts. He might be on a downward spiral, but he did care about his job, and he would never put someone in danger by trying to treat them while intoxicated. And he always made sure to pay his bookie back when he lost, because he didn't fancy getting beat up or something. He knew he was pissing Topher off as well, since he was the one TC went to whenever he came up short. But Topher always gave the money to him, usually with some warning of how this was the last time.

So life wasn't perfect, but they were coping. And if TC still couldn't get a good night's sleep because he was continuously haunted by his brother's last moments and the details he couldn't remember, well, that was his business, and no one else needed to know.

It could have continued on like that indefinitely, if it weren't for the incident.

_I think I've just got one more chapter after this. Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

**The final chapter in my answer to the Write Me #1 prompt on Tumblr.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize**

TC and Jordan had been working in San Antonio for nearly a year, and things weren't exactly great, but they were working.

Sure, neither one was completely happy, but they were still together, because love really made no sense.

They went to work, fought about inconsequential things, saved lives, had angry make up sex in the supply room, went home, fought about more important things, had angry make up sex on the kitchen table.

Lather, rinse, repeat. That was the routine they had fallen into, and for nearly a year, it had worked.

Until that day.

It had started off the way it always had, with TC and Jordan returning to their apartment after shift.

Jordan clenched her jaw but didn't say anything as she watched TC knock back a shot of tequila before he followed her into the bedroom.

Both were exhausted after a busy shift, and dropped off to sleep quickly.

It must have been a few hours later that Jordan felt herself drawn abruptly from a somewhat peaceful slumber. She blinked owlishly in the semi-darkness of the bedroom – the shades had been pulled, but it had to be coming up on noon, so the sun was out in full force.

She heard a soft moaning, and lifted herself up slightly, looking over at TC. He was shifting restlessly next to her, and she knew that that's what had woken her in the first place.

She reached over and nudged his shoulder gently. "T," she whispered. TC continued to toss and turn, caught up in what she suspected was a really bad dream. "TC," she said, slightly louder. Still nothing. "T." She was nearly pleading now; the anxious expression on his face scared her. So did the way he was twisting around, the sheets completely trapping him in bed.

If she had taken another minute to think about it, she probably… no, she still would have started shaking him. He was clearly having a bad dream, and she just wanted to wake him up.

But clearly that wasn't the right move to make. As soon as she started jostling him, and before she had even had time to process what was happening, TC was on top of her, one arm pressed against her throat, tightening uncomfortably.

His eyes, though open, held no recognition as he glared down at her. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't," he growled lowly.

Jordan coughed weakly, trying to breathe. "T," she whispered. "It's me."

TC made no further movements for another few seconds, and Jordan could feel blackness threatening to move in.

And then, as if a switch had been flipped, TC suddenly blinked and shook his head. He looked down again, and his eyes widened, as he quickly threw himself off of his girlfriend.

Jordan coughed again, gasping for air. She looked over, trying to reassure herself that TC was all right. "T…"

TC wouldn't meet her worried gaze, and before she could say anything else, he stood up and left the room.

Jordan wanted to follow, but she knew that he wouldn't listen to anything she had to say right now. He was probably beating himself up, piling on the guilt.

She wanted to find him, and tell him that it was all right, that it wasn't his fault, but even if he would be willing to listen, she didn't know if she could actually say the words.

She loved him, and she knew she probably always would, but she hated watching him self destruct like this. She hated seeing what was happening, and being unable to do anything about it.

TC wouldn't listen to her. Why couldn't he see what he was doing to himself? To her? Why couldn't he admit that he needed help? There was nothing wrong with that, right? After everything he had been through, anyone would need some assistance getting over it.

There was no shame in that. So why did TC have to be so damn stubborn?

Ignoring the voice in her head that was telling her to just let TC be, she threw the covers off and stood up.

She found her boyfriend sitting on the sofa in the living room, his gaze fixed on the window across the room. He seemed intent on watching the cars drive by, but she saw him tense as she sat down.

For a minute, she didn't say anything, trying to work up her courage. Finally, she took a deep breath. "T?"

TC tensed even more. "Don't." His voice was rough with emotion. "Just don't."

Jordan almost let it go. TC sounded so distressed that she hated to add to that. But then she thought about everything that he had done, everything that they had been through, since TC had come back from Afghanistan. And she knew she couldn't just let this slide, the way she had done for the last year.

So rather than nod and head back to the bedroom, she grit her teeth and forced herself to continue. "No." TC glanced up briefly, but returned his gaze to the window after only a second. Jordan clenched her jaw. "No, I will not let this go. T, I refuse to keep ignoring the issue. We are going to talk about this."

"Talk about what?" TC suddenly exploded, standing up and turning to face Jordan. Despite knowing that he would never lay a hand on her, Jordan was suddenly afraid. The look in TC's eyes was part guilt, part anger. "Talk about how I can't get it out of my head? Good men dying, fighting a pointless battle. Being unable to do anything? Do you know what that's like? Or should we talk about how I'm just trying to find something to help me move on? I know I'm not good enough for you, Jordan, but I thought you at least understood a little. I guess I was wrong."

"T…" Jordan tried to cut in weakly, but TC was on a roll now, and didn't let her get a word in.

"Or are we going to talk about how I almost strangled you." The anger was mostly gone now, and instead, a deep-seeded self-loathing had taken its place. "Because yet again, I can't get any rest without being back there."

Seemingly spent, TC nearly wilted in exhaustion, and Jordan could see just how tired he really was. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed it before; she slept next to this man every day, she worked beside him every night. How had she not noticed this before?

Hesitantly, she stood up. Even more cautiously, she tried to reach out and rest a hand on his shoulder.

She wasn't surprised when he twisted away to avoid her touch. Steeling herself, she took a breath. "T, I love you."

"Maybe that's where you went wrong," TC mumbled, but Jordan heard him.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

TC looked at her, and she was once more afraid; he looked so defeated, so unlike his usual self, she couldn't help but worry.

"It's not worth it, Jordan." His tone was so emotionless, and Jordan felt her stomach drop about three feet. "We both know that."

Jordan shook her head. "T, this isn't you. I know things are hard, but you can get better. You just need some help."

TC looked at her, laughing sardonically. "Jesus, what is this, do I have some sign on my back that says help me? I don't want it."

Jordan swallowed harshly. "T…"

TC rolled his eyes. "I don't need it. I'm fine."

Jordan bit her lip. "T, I want to be there for you, but I can't stand to watch you self destruct like this. I hate that you won't accept my help."

TC leveled a near-glare at her. "What are you trying to say?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He knew Jordan better than he knew himself.

Jordan took a deep breath. "If you don't stop with the drinking and gambling, it's over. I'm sorry, T, but I can't stand on the sidelines and watch you destroy your life anymore."

TC lowered his gaze, unable to meet Jordan's own pained one any longer. After a minute of silence, he shrugged and walked to the door.

Jordan felt like her heart was beating straight out of her chest. "T, I love you," she whispered, just wishing that he would listen to her, this one time.

TC stopped by the front door and glanced back at her. "Sometimes that's not enough," he replied quietly. Jordan let out an almost whimper, and TC felt his resolve weaken just a little. "I don't want you to get hurt, Jordan. You need to take care of yourself. I'll come back later to pick up my things."

And before she could say anything else, TC left, the door closing firmly behind him. The sound echoed around Jordan's mind, over and over again. The door shutting on their relationship. Over six years, and all of a sudden, that was it.

How could he just leave? How could Jordan push him like that? She thought about her actions, and wished she had handled it differently. TC needed help, but she shouldn't have forced the decision on him. She shouldn't have given him such an ultimatum.

She let out a sigh and sunk back down onto the couch, dropping her head to her knees as she felt a few tears escape. God, why did she have to love that man so much?

Deep down, though, she knew this was the right thing to do. She couldn't stand by and watch him do this to himself anymore. She was right in that respect. She just wished it didn't have to hurt so much.

She thought about going back to her bedroom, but with all of TC's things in there, she knew she wouldn't get any more rest. Within the first few months of their life here in San Antonio, TC had moved all of his possessions into her apartment, and given up his own. She had seen it once, and understood why immediately. It was a tiny, dingy little thing, that didn't look big enough for a six-foot tall guy to inhabit comfortably.

She figured he was probably going to crash with Topher for now, just as she knew that the older man wouldn't turn him away. She wasn't sure how exactly those two had become friends – they were really pretty different – but she did know that they were best friends – somehow. At times it seemed a little one-sided, with TC all take, and Topher all give, but then she would overhear TC comforting Topher about his in-laws, or watch as he listened to Topher go off on some rant about something or other that she knew TC was in no way interested in, but still leant an ear and offered his support. And on one memorable occasion, she had accidentally walked in on TC comforting Topher as the man cried into his friend's shoulder. When she had asked later, TC had been very tightlipped and just said, "flashback," with no further elaboration.

Jordan forced herself to sit up, and rubbed a hand across her face. She should take a shower and get dressed, since it was clear she wasn't going to get any more sleep today. When she went in for work tonight, she would ask about a transfer to the day shift. She didn't think she could take seeing TC every day without bursting into tears at least once.

At least Topher was the only one who knew about their relationship, so they wouldn't have to deal with any awkwardness there.

With a sigh, she made herself stand up, and dejectedly, headed towards the bathroom.

**XXX**

TC worried his lower lip as he lifted his helmet off and hung it on the handlebar of his motorcycle. With a tired groan, he swung his leg over the seat, and pushed himself away.

The walk up the front path to Topher's house was definitely too short for his liking. He knew he could always go to Topher, but he would rather keep that to asking for money. He hated dealing with emotional crap.

He hoped Topher wouldn't push him.

He swallowed harshly and rang the doorbell. There was a pounding of feet, and then the door swung open. He forced himself to grin at the excited face of Topher's daughter. "Hey Lynn, how's it hangin'?"

Lynn beamed. "Hi Uncle TC! What are you doing here?"

TC felt his smile lessen a little, and forced himself to remain light. Lynn didn't need to see him getting all depressed. "I was hoping I could talk to your dad. Is he awake?"

Lynn turned around slightly, so that she was facing the staircase, and yelled, "Daddy!" at the top of her lungs.

TC winced at the volume, but didn't say anything, as the man in question came hurrying down the stairs. "Lynn? What's wrong?"

Lynn glanced back at the open door, and TC waived weakly. "Hey Toph."

Topher looked at him critically, noting the minute signs of stress and exhaustion that most would overlook. "Lynn, go find your mother." He waited until the young girl scampered off, before he sighed. "How much do you need?" he asked resignedly.

TC grimaced. "That's not why I'm here," he said softly.

Topher stopped in his tracks on his way to pick up his checkbook from the side table. He turned back to his friend, and frowned. "What's going on?"

TC bit his lip, his gaze lowering to the floor. "Do you mind if I crash here for a couple of days?"

His voice was so unsure and pained, that Topher felt his heart thump uncomfortably. "Why? What happened?"

TC shuffled inside, and waited until Topher closed the door behind him. He immediately toed his shoes off, knowing that his friend did not like to have people wearing shoes inside the house. That act done, he shuffled his feet uncertainly, and Topher felt his worry spike. After almost a minute of silence, TC cleared his throat, feeling his voice catch, before he looked up at his best friend.

"It's over," he said softly, feeling a burning pressure behind his eyes that threatened tears.

Topher could do little more than draw his friend into a hug, burying his surprise both at the end of a relationship that had lasted so long, and the fact that his friend was actually showing how he truly felt about it.

TC just clutched at the older man, forcing the tears down. He was TC Callahan, Army Ranger, battlefield doc, one of the best doctors at San Antonio Memorial. He didn't cry.

Without saying anything, Topher maneuvered TC towards the guest bedroom. He wouldn't ask. What was important now was to get TC to a bed, and let him figure this out. He would be there, and his shoulder was definitely available if the younger man needed it, but he wouldn't push.

TC must have been more tired than Topher thought, because he had barely dropped himself onto the bed before he was out for the count.

Topher got the sheets out from under him, and quietly covered him up. He paused for a moment, observing his friend, before he headed for the door.

Whatever had happened, whatever was to come, for right now, TC was safe and with family.

And maybe, that was enough.

_And we're done!_

_Please let me know what you think!_


End file.
